


Life and Death

by orphan_account



Series: Summer Pornathon Entries 2014 [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Based on a Tumblr Post, M/M, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 22:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2205138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's lonely being the Lord of the Underworld. It's dark, depressing, and gloomy. Arthur, son of the harvest goddess, can change all that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life and Death

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus Challenge 7: Fusions and Crossovers
> 
> Inspired by a [tumblr AU](http://neuroticnick.tumblr.com/post/56502323041) with Merlin as Hades and Arthur as Persephone (also Uther as Zeus and Ygraine as Demeter).

Merlin wasn’t alone. No, he was anything but that. He had thousands of millions of people keeping him company, not to mention Cerberus (who was a loyal if annoying guard/pet).

Merlin wasn’t alone, but he was lonely. He hated his home, his eternally dark prison, and all its dead inhabitants.

Then he saw Arthur.

Of all Merlin’s siblings, Ygraine was the fairest (or so Merlin thought, at least). She was his exact opposite—where she reigned over life and the coming of the harvest, Merlin reigned over the underworld. She was light, and he was dark. Merlin had never seen her son, his nephew Arthur, but then, that one amazing, joyous day, he _did_.

Arthur had Uther’s strength of character and Ygraine’s graceful beauty. He could have a firm, bruising grip on a sword or soft, gentle touch on a flower. His face could be alternatively as cruel and hard as Uther’s, or as bright and friendly as Ygraine’s.

He was perfect. Merlin wanted him.

Arthur was...difficult to convince.

Perhaps a bit of kidnapping had been involved.

But Merlin was sure Arthur would come round eventually.

&&

“I want to go home.”

Merlin sighed. “We’ve talked about this. You’re not leaving.”

“But nothing grows here!”

“You do know this is the underworld and that I’m Lord of the Dead, don’t you?”

Arthur looked so downcast and defeated, so gloomy when he should’ve been full of light, that Merlin decided he’d at least try. He bent down to the hard ground, placed a palm over it, and slowly, reluctantly, a flower grew, shooting upward until its stem was seven inches above the barren soil.

It was withered and grey and would probably fall to pieces at the slightest touch, but it was a flower nonetheless.

“There,” Merlin said.

With an exasperated sigh, Arthur sank to his knees before the plant. Merlin watched as strong hands tenderly cupped the petals, as life burst into the flower from the simple touch of Arthur’s skin. Merlin was in awe. He’d never been able to create something so beautiful, and to see it thriving against all odds in his domain of death took his breath away.

“There,” Arthur said, smiling triumphantly.

Merlin had trouble decided which he wanted to stare at more—Arthur smiling brilliantly for the first time since he’d been here, or the impossible sight of the vibrant flower springing out of the dusty ground.

After a somewhat awkward amount of time spent looking at Arthur, Merlin shifted his gaze to the flower. He brought his hand up, knowing what would happen in his head but desperately hoping it wouldn’t in his heart, and before Merlin even touched it, the flower began to wilt. Spirals of grey invaded the lively bloom, nearly turning the petals to a crisp. By the time Merlin’s finger touched it, it had almost become as fragile as ash.

“Stop! What are you doing?!”

Merlin jerked his hand back. The stricken look on Arthur’s face stabbed Merlin’s heart, and he’d never hated himself more.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Get away from it, you’ll ruin it!”

Merlin scrambled away, tripping on his long cloak. “I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

As he eased life back into his single flower, Arthur was frowning at him, but Merlin couldn’t tell if it was from disappointment or the usual sadness. He waited there, heart in his throat, unable to do more than stare back.

Finally, Arthur sighed again and stood up. He walked over to where Merlin was crouched on the ground and offered him his hand. Merlin stared at the hand in disbelief.

Those hands, those perfect hands, and Merlin was going to touch them?

“You couldn’t help it, I suppose,” Arthur said. “So I guess I forgive you.”

Slowly, Merlin raised his hand to grab hold of Arthur’s. It was warm, rough with calluses, and Merlin felt as though heat was flooding his veins as soon as they touched. He hoped he wasn’t having the opposite effect on Arthur, that his coldness wasn’t seeping in through the skin.

No such luck apparently. After Arthur helped Merlin to his feet, Arthur looked down at their clasped hands curiously.

“You’re so cold…”

“I know,” Merlin said. “You’re so warm.”

“My father always said you’re not to be trusted.”

Merlin grit his teeth. “Your father is the one who betrayed _me_.”

“You brought me here against my will.”

“You said it yourself,” Merlin replied, softening. “Nothing grows here. It’s dark. But you…” He put his other hand over Arthur’s and dared to glide up a bit more, to caress first the skin of Arthur’s wrist and then further up his arm. “You have all the traits of my brother I envy, all the characteristics of my sister I admire. You bring things to life where I bring only death, and—”

“You’re lonely. And you fancy me.”

Merlin dropped his eyes with a small smile. “I am. I do.”

Seconds passed, and then Arthur said, “We can...try. I guess. It’s not as though you’ll let me leave.”

“I didn’t want to capture you,” Merlin admitted. “I’ve only ever wished you to be happy here.”

“I’d be much happier if there was _some_ life.”

Merlin nearly laughed at the thought—Life? In the underworld?—but then the idea came to him all of a sudden.

“The Islands of the Blessed!” he exclaimed.

Arthur furrowed his brow. “The what?”

“Where the virtuous dwell. You can put all the plants you like there. Fields of flowers, trees, grasses, whatever you wish,” he continued excitedly. “You can make it beautiful. It’s meant to be a paradise anyway.”

Arthur grinned again. “Like my own garden.”

“Well it’ll still be roaming with the souls of the dead, but the happy dead. Yes, your own garden.”

“Elysium.”

Merlin nodded. “Whatever you wish to call it.”

“I still hate it here, mind,” Arthur said, raising a finger. “But thank you. I suppose for this, I’ll...give you a kiss.”

Merlin beamed and his heart thudded in his chest as Arthur leaned forward.

_A kiss a kiss a kiss from Arthur a kiss!_

Arthur’s lips were as warm as his hands, as his entire body. It radiated and pulsed through Merlin in waves of joy.

_A kiss...a kiss…_

Merlin never wanted Arthur to leave. He wanted him to stay here with him forever.

But he knew, in the upper world, Ygraine was mourning. He knew the land was suffering. And he knew, for such happiness now, a price would have to be paid later.


End file.
